And Then There Were Two
by Freddo
Summary: The First Part of the Rikasha Incident Saga as a new War begins in the year 2202.
1. Default Chapter

**ALTERNATE TALES OF THE STAR FORCE**

STAR BLAZERS--AND THEN THERE WERE TWO...

Being the first part of THE RIKASHA INCIDENT

By: Frederick P. Kopetz

With assistance and contributions provided by  
**The Iscandar Project's Author's Review Forum**

Thanks to Derek A. C. Wakefield for an idea  
**provided for the eventual fate of the original**  
**character "Michelle Hartnell-Iiyama"**

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ACT ONE-WITHIN THE MAELSTROM

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I. PASSAGES

The Varalndus (Beta Valentis) System

Between the Second and Third Planets

Earth Date: January 9, 2202

2315 Hours: Eastern Standard Time

* * *

The glorious universe stretches into infinity...

It is filled with many different lifeforms, all of which exist as part of a cycle of life that began in the distant past. New stars are born from the cosmic dust of space, while others age, die, and return to the cosmic dust from which they were made.

In the depths of space, there is an immensely ancient and evil Entity who will not accept the fact that there will come a day when he must die. Through twisted experiments he sought to extend his lifespan far beyond its natural limit, and he sought to bend the Cosmos and all life to his will. In so doing, he has become a terrible being, filled with hatred and contempt for all natural forms of life.

In his quest for Absolute Dominion, he has become...a Dark Lord...and he has created torment and suffering for untold billions of innocent men, women, and children.

Now, in one of the greatest examples of his hubris and pride, this Dark Lord has stretched out his foul hand to this galaxy, bringing death and pain here from his own galaxy when he dared to toy with an entire world...

* * *

Pellias. 

It had once been a beacon of hope for the oppressed, a place of refuge for the suffering, and a bastion of defense against decades...no…centuries worth of madness, terror and suffering wrought by a distant madman who was, unfortunately, no legend to those he brought suffering, pain, heartbreak and death to for what seemed to be no good reason at all.

Pellias had once been a vast Federation of races united against the Empire led by the legendary Dark Lord Ekogaru. To some, Pellias seemed like a contradiction...the home planet of the Federation was a monarchy, with a Queen elected by the consent of the governed whenever the hereditary line failed. An interstellar empire based upon free petitions of entry by member worlds. A vast military machine dedicated to freedom and self-defense.

A Crystal Throne...where a young woman had sat, a woman elected when the Queen who had preceded her had been poisoned by their enemies, her assassin screaming out worship and praise to his god, Lord Ekogaru, as he fell before the firing squad.

A Crystal Throne sat on Pellias...but it was now vacant. For the Queen was dead. And, sitting at the foot of the empty throne, sighing, there was a young delicate-featured woman with floor-length reddish-gold hair who guessed that there would be no Accession Ceremony placing her on the Crystal Throne to rule as the 329th Queen of Pellias.

Nauseating, she thought as she toyed with the silver necklace that decorated the low neckline of her royal blue gown. One of her white boots tapped against the polished black marble step she sat on as she closed her eyes, thinking,_ Some people worship...HIM. Who knows? Maybe they were correct all along. Maybe...Shardovan...was correct when he defected two years ago as the Federation Inner Ring was broken by those accursed Goraizu Fortress ships, those ships, coming like horrid carnivorous Cararerban Death Hounds in front of Ekogaru the Great and his bedamned floating world!_

, she thought as she toyed with the silver necklace that decorated the low neckline of her royal blue gown. One of her white boots tapped against the polished black marble step she sat on as she closed her eyes, thinking,

Maybe Shardovan was right, thought Princess Astrena, _when he decided to defect and leave...me...and...leave his only daughter. Shardovan Gralnacz. You were our Lord High Protector, our last military genius, our last defiance...our last hope...our last Protector. And, then, out of the blue, you counseled surrender...to HIM! And then, you turned about and worshipped HIM and entered HIS service! You monster…!_

thought Princess Astrena, 

Astrena took off her necklace and began to weep. "I am half of what is holding this mad husk of a world together...but why? Stubbornness? Willfulness? If I just went in, dropped my concentration...and ordered Pellias to meet her inevitable end in this maelstrom, here in nothingness, then we could all just die like we were meant to, I guess. I called out. No one will answer! No one heard me..."

Then, the door to the empty, vacant throne room opened. "Who is it?" demanded Astrena, still summoning up a ghost of imperviousness. "Who disturbs the meditation of the last grown Noble of Pellias?"

"Only the bearer of the Matrix...thy daughter," said a younger, but even more imperious voice as a young, willowy, very thin woman strode in. She was simply dressed...a common knee-length black dress, although of rich material, a plain necklace, plain black lace-up sandals with straps that wound up to just below her bare knees. This young woman's distinction was in her face...a face with delicate features somewhat like that of her mother's, but more set in some ways. Her eyes were dark brown and blazing, and they were framed by a mane of honey-blond hair that wound down to her waist but which had two pert, cute curls at her cheeks. Save for the demeanor of her face, she looked much like a normal upper-class Pellian woman of just twenty (and Astrena knew there were now few of her age left on Pellias.)

But...the face...and the fire that shone in her eyes, made her unique. She was the one whom most on Pellias had revered...and feared...since her birth. She had been given the name of a Pellian who had said, upon her dying breath almost three thousand years ago, that the her name would not rise again until the last of her line rose up to face their Opponent...but, in that day, in that age, Pellias would die.

She was the Lady Aliscea D'Shal. She was now all that was left of the fabled defiance of Pellias, at least in spirit.

"I should've known you'd show up here to counsel me," said Astrena mildly.

"Mother, pick up your necklace and put it on. All is not yet lost! Why give in to pride and despair?"

"Can you not but look outside?" sighed Astrena. "Ekogaru has won. We are finished. You fulfilled the Prophecy...and you..."

"Like Perdition I did!" snapped Aliscea. "I know it is not over yet!"

"Why? You know what happened yesterday...why, you were with me to see the end...and experience it..."

"Oh, you mean...?"

"Don't speak to me thus, child," said Astrena in a weak, sick voice. "You know what Ekogaru did yesterday! You know it!"

"Yes, I know it," said Aliscea. "And, I shall recite the tale again, like a bard!"

"Why?"

"To prove to you it is not yet finished!"

"Then you have leave to speak," sighed Astrena.

"Yes...it was like unto this…" said Aliscea as she walked up to her mother, sat down on the floor, and began to speak as she took her mother's hand. "It was like_ this..._"

* * *

The realm of the Dark Lord Ekogaru was far off in the depths of space in a cluster of galaxies known as the Virgo Cluster, between the constellations Coma and Virgo as seen in our Galaxy. It was located 12 million lightyears away in a spiral galactic system known as the "Blackeye Galaxy". 

This galaxy was much like any other spiral galaxy, save for one unfortunate fact. Namely, a major bastion of freedom was about to be overrun by a vast spacegoing object known as the Technomugar Fortress.

This fortress, the citadel of the Dark Lord Ekogaru the Great, was a huge black battle station almost the size of Pellias itself. Its central core was surrounded by many immense towers, each of them at least several hundred kilometers tall. They were covered with ports, windows, and bays that glowed with multi-colored hues of light. At a distance, the Fortress looked like a huge black globe that glowed with innumerable points of multi-colored light. As a result, this huge Fortress was both strangely beautiful and incredibly foreboding in appearance all at once. Today, if its Master would have his way, it would bring death to the planet Pellias.

On Pellias, an assembly of men and women stood behind a number of large crystalline control panels in the lower portion of a vast underground hall. This room was the emergency meeting place of what remained of the High Council of the Chancellor of the Pellian Federation. The Chancellor was a stately old man named Jerrold. In spite of the stress he felt in this hour, he maintained a type of lonely dignity as he strode up to the head of the last of the consoles to confer with two young women who stood there.

"Princess Astrena, Lady Aliscea, ...we must now give Lord Ekogaru our last reply. Do you still wish to abide by our decision?"

"It must be as I have foreseen, but it is not as I hoped, Uncle." said Astrena. "Ekogaru destroyed all of our allied colony worlds, decimated our defense forces, laid our cities waste, and sent his cyborg troops through the remains to capture or kill the survivors as part of his warped plan. One of them, you are aware, was my mother, our beloved Queen Arkalaia. Aliscea and I have decided that we have had enough. We cannot allow him to turn our what is left of our race into a weapon for his evil benefit. You know what must be done. We must tell Ekogaru that we are taking the only logical choice."

"So be it," said Jerrold. "Aliscea?"

"NO! Granted, I'm at my mother's side, Chancellor," said Aliscea "I shall do my part to fulfill our destiny, sad and bitter as it is. But...I shall add something of my own, here."

"And that is?"

"Chancellor," smiled Aliscea. "Before the End, I'm going to tell Lord Ekogaru to go off and _geradde'ichan _himself!"

"WHAT?" cried Astrena. "Aliscea...why have you decided to start…speaking like a common laborer? Remember who thine mother is!"

"Mother, it is simply our spirit. The spirit of the old motto beneath the Federation Flag..._TESENT'DIQUAT JIARR! _You know it meansNever Say Die.' in our modern tongue." smiled Aliscea. "And, I'm going to spit in his eye, too, before all this is over."

"But it's too late," said Astrena. "I've foreseen it."

"**Space take what you've foreseen, Mother!" **snapped Aliscea. Did you not once tell me that my vision can oft be clearer that yours?I have foreseen something different! Hold my hand, now. We're not giving up! Let us execute the plan we devised!"

"We should...forbear…give up…" said Astrena with a sigh. "We really should.. Against _that.._."

"Mother, it's going to work. Have I not told you?" snapped Aliscea.

"You think you can defy HIM?" said Jerrold.

"Aye, we can! Verily…I can do it," said Aliscea. "Mother and I can join our forces and do it."

"Princess, we need your word. Do you agree with the Matrix-Bearer?"

Everything went silent as Astrena stood in thought. "I do. We will not send him the declaration! Open the channel," she sighed.

"Princess...it will probably mean our...extinction."

"Do it," snapped Aliscea.

Horror-struck, Jerrold looked at Astrena, hoping she'd put this child in her place. She was bright, she was powerful, but...

"Listen to her," said Astrena simply. "When she tells you to do something, you do it. I am the last political authority here, but you know that she is the servant of the Secret Flame..."

"So be it," whispered Jerrold. "Lieutenant?"

"Chancellor, he stands ready. I will open the channel at your command."

Everyone stood in solemn silence as Jerrold turned back towards the screen. A moment later, a face hidden in shadow appeared on the screen. "Jerrold," said the deep, penetrating voice of Ekogaru from the speakers. "My friend. What is it you have decided?"

"Ekogaru," said Jerrold in an even, low voice. "After due consultation, we have decided, en masse, to reject your offer of "asylum". We have decided to stand free and, hence, we decided we will never serve you or surrender to you."

"Do you expect to receive supernatural assistance, Jerrold? You know it's hopeless to resist me!"

"Yes, as embodied in a Spirit and a Power you know little of, Ekogaru," said Astrena. "You can do what you wish to us, but I feel that Destiny will sustain what remains of our race, regardless of what will happen. And, those of us who have survived here in the capital have determined by lot that even if Destiny does not come to our aid, we would all prefer to join our brothers in death rather than serve _you_."

"How sad it is that you have chosen to die, Astrena." said Ekogaru. "This is my last conquest here in this Galaxy. Today, I shall become Lord here. Furthermore, the death of your world shall enable me to extend my realm to even greater heights! It is most unfortunate that your valiant world's orbital path crosses the hidden doorway of the dimensional rift I must open via an Interphase to leave this galactic system and begin widening our sway and power to the Milky Way, and it is even more unfortunate that today your planet is directly over that doorway, but such is Fate sometimes. I have offered you mercy! Why have you chosen suicide over greatness?"

"Ekogaru, we know the will of our people," said Astrena. "I may shiver in my boots, but we shall never surrender unto you. We know better now. "

"How charming! Because, Astrena, you will most surely die! Your planet will never survive against My power!"

"You will fail someday, Ekogaru. Be assured of it!" snapped Aliscea.

"YOU?" snapped Ekogaru. "Child, you defy me? Astrena, slap her for me. She's very, very unruly."

"And I'll spit in your eye!" snapped Aliscea.

"I am a God. Try it," said Ekogaru.

"I have foreseen it. Someday, I shall do it!" said Aliscea.

"Or perhaps I should delay this so I can ask your father to land a Goraizu fortress there and spank you?" smiled Ekogaru.

"She won't permit it, and I know it," said Astrena, fired a little by her daughter's indomitable, if mad, spirit.

"You are so wrong, Astrena," hissed Ekogaru. "Let's see the child save everyone's lives now when she's about to go on the hangman's gibbet, too," laughed Ekogaru.

As the channel remained open, he twisted his throne around to face his military aide, Generalissimo Vergar. "Vergar, you shall give the order to begin the procedure now!"

"My Lord, I am not certain we are in position yet," said the thin, blue-skinned cyborg. "Any sort of mistake might..."

"_Enough!_ Order the helmsmen to use the auxiliary systems to make all of the necessary course changes after we compress Pellias, use its mass to open the rift, and then blast it down the rift!"

"Yes, Lordship. It shall be as you command." said Vergar, who bowed and left as Ekogaru cut off his transmission to the Pellians.

In space, the Technomugar Fortress turned one of its larger protuberances towards the planet. As it did so, the Pellian sky began to grow dark. Underground, everyone knelt in fear, save for Astrena and Aliscea, who stood holding hands and looking at the blank screen with defiance in their eyes. _Now_, the _time comes,_ thought Astrena. _Aliscea's impetuous...but she seems to know the prophecy. I guess this is it. Now, we shall defy you...or die in the attempt._

And, at that, she and Aliscea knelt down together, still holding hands, and they bowed their heads and began to glow slightly.

Aboard the Technomugar Fortress, Vergar and his other black-robed generals stood in a vast control room, operated by rank after rank of blue, orange, and Caucasian cyborgs in two-toned blue tunics with black trousers and boots. The energies of the Fortress began to coalesce about a long protuberance that was actually a two thousand kilometer long gun barrel that began to glow green at its muzzle. It was the muzzle of the Phased Density Cannon, a multi-purpose invention of Ekogaru's that was the foundation of his power. Soon, a massive greenish lance of energy shot up its barrel.

It boomed and howled and screamed like the voice of Doom itself as it blasted through the atmosphere of Pellias, heading right toward one of the planet's major continents. It literally created a horrible green dawn for a moment in the darkness as it roared down towards a plain not far from the planetary capital. Finally, it impacted the plain, and turned red. A mushroom cloud rose as the beam's energy began to spread over the entire planet in an energy surge that looked like a tidal wave of blood. It swept over the whole planet, including the capital, in spite of the fact that the capital itself was glowing with golden light.

A huge planetary quake hit Pellias as the Technomugar Fortress began to move slightly, making the star of Pellias appear as red as blood as it emerged from behind the vast black disk in the sky. The planet's mass then began to shrink at an ever-increasing rate as the beam and the energy field turned purple.

As soon as that happened, a titanic, roaring field appeared in space. The field opened and expanded into a hole in the space-time continuum that roared and hissed with strange energies and gravitational disturbances. The shrunken, pathetic husk that had been Pellias fell into the Void, sucking vast amounts of energy and gas down with it as it roared down through the Interphase out of the Blackeye Galaxy. It took the Technomugar Fortress with it as the field of the Phased Density Cannon that attached the Fortress to the remnants of Pellias like some bizarre umbilical cord turned green again, and held as the mass roared further down the chaotic natural warp tunnel, into the maelstrom in the very substance of space that Ekogaru had just created.

Aboard the Fortress, even the Technomugar themselves were awe-struck as the Fortress roared down, down, down, down into the depths as every indicator, klaxon, and control panel screamed in protest against the stresses that Ekogaru was forcing them to endure.

Only the Dark Lord himself remained unfazed by this passage down the warp tunnel. "Now my Plan is almost complete!" he screamed as he flicked on the intercom control on his throne. "Vergar! How far have we come?"

"Instruments indicate we are more than...halfway...," gasped the cyborg. "We have traveled seven point two million lightyears, Lordship."

"How is the energy tendril holding?"

"Lordship, it is growing tenuous, and the tunnel is beginning to narrow. If we don't make it to the Milky Way in another two minutes, it could easily break, and…"

"Power up our thrusters," intoned Ekogaru.

"WHAT?"

"**Power up our thrusters!** We have to complete our passage within the allotted time period!"

"Lordship, if we transfer too much power to the thrusters, the power to the Phased Density Cannon could drop beyond the critical point, and we could collapse the tunnel around us, thus forcing us out earlier than we..."

"DO IT," snapped Ekogaru. "We have enough reserves left to cover this contingency!"

"Yes, Lordship," said Vergar. "Marda! Initiate thruster sequence."

"Yes, Generalissimo," said the Prophetess Marda, a beautiful cyborgized woman with orange skin and red hair. "Initiating sequence: we have now traveled ten million lightyears."

The Fortress and the husk of Pellias roared on. The thrusters fired, and the speed of the Fortress increased immensely. It had traveled ten point two million lightyears so far. However, at 10.5, trouble began to occur. The warp tunnel began to narrow as the energies that phased the relative density of Pellias began to weaken and the planet's mass slowly began to creep back towards normal. The planet still roared on but its connection to the Fortress began to grow weaker. Finally, it broke free and began to reform and tumble down out of the tunnel as the rift collapsed. The Technomugar Fortress, now liberated from the planet, continued to roar on as the tunnel collapsed around it. It went onwards until a mass-energy explosion took place, and it blasted out into normal space, smoking, spinning with severe damage as a massive rift appeared in the Milky Way Galaxy, followed by a maelstrom: it was the final ghost of the Interphase that Ekogaru had created.

The maelstrom was the madness that would soon be detected by the Gamilons in the Varalndus system appeared out of nowhere as matter roared out of the rift in space that the Dark Lord had formed. The fabric of space-time itself shook in the Varalndus System, with eddies rolling out through hyperspace all around it as out of the rift appeared a little rocky planet that had once been blue-white. Now, its oceans were gone, and its atmosphere had become very, very thin and cold. But, it had survived.

Pellias had made the passage into the Milky Way intact.

And, at that, Astrena guessed that Aliscea...and she had, together, managed to spit in Ekogaru's eye. They should not have survived. Pellias should not have survived. It would not survive forever. But, by their psionic powers, the planet was holding together.

In a sense, the defiance of Pellias continued.

However, about one million lightyears away, the same could not be said for Ekogaru's Fortress.

"Report!" yelled Ekogaru. "Vergar! What happened to us?"

"Lordship, the tunnel has collapsed. We emerged prematurely."

"What in Perdition's Name happened to Pellias?"

"Lordship, we are analyzing it now." A moment later, a graphic of the nearby galactic region appeared on a screen before the Dark Lord. "We emerged about one million lightyears short of our goal. The planet made the passage and survived once it broke free of the Phased Density beam, Lordship."

"That meddling Astrena!" hissed Ekogaru. "Where is she?"

"Quite a distance away. She emerged about one thousand lightyears away from an insignificant star system in the Eastern part of the Milky Way."

"What is that system called? Is it inhabited?"

"Yes," said Vergar as a massive readout appeared. "It's an insignificant threat, Lordship. It is called the Sol System. Its primary planet is called...Earth, my Lord."

"Earth," chuckled Ekogaru. "Excellent! I have a spiritual ally there. One of the followers I have cultivated through my mental powers. I will let her begin to deal with this as I make my Advent to her and prepare for Our Advent when we reach the Milky Way itself. Marda: you have the Rikashans and their R'Khell clerics under your sway?"

"I do, Lordship," said the Prophetess.

"Then, you'll contact Lord Zaden of Rikasha, and see to it that Pellias is placed under a Rikashan blockade until we can get to the Milky Way ourselves and destroy it. In the meantime, you and Gralnacz will also see to it that the Rikashans and the R'Khell extend their Holy War, acting as advance shock troops for Us until We can get there ourselves and finish the job as we conquer the Milky Way. Vergar! YOU will tell Me how long it will take for us to get to the Milky Way as I contact some of My servants and...of course, see how that Astrena...and that foolish child Aliscea...survived."

"Lordship, she couldn't have..."

"She did," hissed Ekogaru. "And, I should like to know why! Do you understand?"

"Yes, Lord."

"Good. See to it at once!"

And now, Astrena knew, as Aliscea finished the tale, Pellias was dying. Aliscea would not say how much longer their powers cold hold together the planet. But, it was doomed. Its mantle was irreparably cracked. Quakes were roiling its surface even as they sat talking, with their strange subconscious minds locked like a death-grip on the task of counteracting the geological forces that were tearing apart Pellias from inside. It was weakening Astrena to keep on concentrating, even subconsciously.

Astrena had no idea what it was doing to her daughter. The child simply refused to let her into her mind to probe the forces and see what was happening.

Yet, despite her defiance, Astrena somehow knew her child was slowly dying. She had gotten more pale, and, earlier today, after a fitful sleep, Astrena knew that her daughter had clutched at her bosom and screamed for a moment as the first throes of a coronary were raging across the twenty-year old girl's body. Aliscea's age was still twenty in Terran years, although Pellias' year...had been...just two days longer than that of Earth.

Somehow, Aliscea had cured herself...and not even her mother knew how she had managed it.

I am dying...she is dying. Behold, we all are doomed and dying, thought Astrena. _But, she still stands defiant. Spitting in the face of Death himself. How does she do it? And to what end?_

thought Astrena. 

"You know why," said Aliscea in reply, just as she had read her mother's thoughts. "Aid _is _coming. "The imperious man I saw in my last vision...he'll rescue you..."

"Don't be a fool!" sighed Astrena. "No big blue man in a cavalry outfit is going to show up and sweep me off Pellias in his arms as the flames blow behind him, framing his blond hair like a halo. Aye, you have the Matrix, but the Great Ones of the past would not be showing you stuff like unto that, because it will not happen thus. No one heard me."

"Don't you be ridiculous, Mother! They heard you! And, my Prince is hearing me, too."

"Your Prince?" said Astrena, smiling a little as she stood amused. "And where do you get this odd, hasty manner of speech from? I taught thee better!"

"I get all of this from a Prince with national descent from a line of mad princes that have a habit of telling tyrants to get lost, hopeless as the cause may be," smiled Aliscea. "I've seen him. He has dark eyes, sable hair, and he's coming with guns blazing, leading the charge. He's something like Father when he was young, before he went mad and defected. The song of _Shalinskar_ is calling me, Mother!"

"Do not act like that! You are not going to take a mate!"

"I will. It will be in the tombs," smiled Aliscea. "It'll be wonderful. _Then_ we'll leave."

"How do you know?" asked Astrena.

"I gave you the language of the world. Yes, the tongue of the hasty world known as Earth…"

"Which you have begun to speak like a space sailor."

Aliscea just smiled at that. "There will be many space sailors! The Earthers will come! You'll see!"

"My confident daughter," sighed Astrena as pain wracked her chest for a second. "You always were the one giving me strength. I believe I am beginning to believe you."

"Good, because I'm tired, too, Mother," said Aliscea in the first bit of vulnerability her mother had heard from her in several hours. "I'll let you into my mind a little bit," sighed Aliscea as she just stretched out and put her head back into, her mother's lap, yawning, flexing her arms, stomach, legs, everything down to her exposed toes as she began to relax, "Won't it be nice, letting you back into my head?"

"Why is that?" said Astrena.

"To make sure my heart doesn't give out when I wake up," whispered Aliscea. "By the Most High, it's such a burden," she sobbed.

"I shall protect you," said Astrena with a hopeful smile. "You, the last bit of our defiance. I will protect you down to my last heartbeat. Because, if _you_ die, what remains for us save the grave?"

* * *

II. A SENTINELS' WATCH

Aft Observation Deck

Space Battleship _Argo_

Earth Date: January 9, 2202

2344 Hours: Eastern Standard Time

Ensign Paul Rosstowski was _not_ in a hopeful mood as he stared out towards the mere point of light that was now Saturn as the_ Argo _cruised slowly towards Neptune.

Paul banged his hand on the wooden railing below the window. "What's the use," he said out loud. "The Captain thinks I'm an idiot. Junior Lieutenant Parsons thinks I'm chopped liver, the XO probably thinks I'm dirt, I know Bryan Hartcliffe of the damn Tigers thinks I'm a moron, him and his razzing me about not having a girlfriend. I don't want a girlfriend. I'm a divorced and bitter man paying child support for a kid I haven't seen in Lord knows how long, and I don't treat women like playthings. And his wife's trying to set me up with a Sergeant she knows? Give me a break, Angie Hartcliffe," sighed Paul. "That's just another way of saying: _Go sleep with the enlisted people where you belong, you deck ape! You're not in the officers' college club. You're not fit to be one of us. Take your battlefield _commission_ and go blow your nose in it..._"

"That commission," said Paul. "When this blows over, I oughta just resign it, become a Sergeant again, and when my hitch runs out, go live on Skid Row and drink myself to death _slowly_," muttered Paul in a soft voice. "Mom always said I'd never amount to a damn thing...that I was no good...that I was a bad seed. And when you were dying of Radiation Sickness, you told me I wasn't fit to be your son, Mother. Sweet Mother. Whatever..."

Paul sighed and put his head in his hands. "I oughta give it all up now, become a drunkard. Yeah! End up in the friggin' brig...a fight with the right guy would do it. That's what I should do. That's what I should..."

Don't you dare! sounded a voice in his mind.

"Who are you?" Paul replied out loud.

Your intended, Paul.

Paul snickered and shook his head. "Yeah, sure! I don't need to drink. I'm going crazy already! WHEEE," he yelled, not caring if anyone was there. "And as long as I've got company in my head, better speak to it, I guess. _Who are you, voice in me head_?" said Paul in a mock-Liverpudlian accent like that of one of the long-dead musicians known as The Beatles. "Are you my fairy Godmother?"

No, I'm the one you dreamed about last night.

"That was a centerfold in a porno magazine I borrowed from Grant," sneered Rosstowski.

Say that again and I'll slap you when I meet you, even though I'm going to marry you.

"Okay, Little Miss Delusional Voice in My Head," said Paul. "You're nothing more than some bad fake beef, some Star Force chow, and a porno centerfold, and you've all conspired together to make sure I get a Section 8."

Y_ou've earned one slap,_ returned the voice cheerfully._ You'll get it when we meet. Which cheek, and how hard should it be, Earther?_

"Okay, now you're telling me you're an alien."

No, I come from Allensburg, Pennsylvania, which used to be called Allentown, once. That's an even **worse** place! sang the mocking voice.

"How'd you know about that evil place?"

Stole it from your head, Paul. Nyeeeaahhh!

"Okay, if you're real, show me what you look like," mocked Paul.

A long pause came, and then the Voice answered, very mischievously, _Look now...look in the magic mirror of the observation deck dome, Paul..._

Paul looked, and he was surprised when, either across space, or across the glass, or across his mind, there danced an image of a pretty girl's face.

She had honey-blond hair, blown by some unseen wind. The hair had two curls at the cheeks, and the eyes were incredibly beautiful...although they seemed a little threatening for a minute...almost as if something was on fire deep inside them.

The nose and small mouth were beautiful, cute, magnificent. _Damn,_ thought Paul._ She almost looks like Queen Starsha of Iscandar...or Starsha gone punk or something? A black dress at the shoulders? Boy, what a looker. Looks kinda familiar, too. Looks almost like pictures I've seen of Astra of Iscandar, or..._

And then, suddenly, (with a ghost of a little chortle lingering in his mind), the vision (if it was any kind of vision) faded, but not quite, for the face was still there, observing Paul.

There was just one problem. The honey-blond hair had gotten a little shorter, some of the fire in the eyes had gone out, and she was wearing gold...trimmed with black...and had on a clearly visible wedding ring.

"Paul?" said Nova quizzically as he turned around to look at her. "Are you all right? You look like you've just seen a ghost!"

"Anybody ever tell you look just like Starsha of Iscandar?"

"Yes, all too many people," smiled Nova. "If they keep it up, I'm going to buy a light blue dress and silver heels and a long wig and _be_ her next Halloween," she laughed. "That'll shut them all up."

"Sounds like an idea," he sighed.

"…That should not be taken seriously," said Nova. "Sorry, Starsha," said Nova as she looked out into space.

"That's silly."

"You never read the histories?" said Nova. "Or talked with Her Highness or heard the scuttlebutt on our first mission? One has to be somewhat careful about what you say about Queen Starsha. She seems to sort of know what we're up to. More seriously," said Nova, clearing her throat. "Where _were _you?"

"Here."

"Well, I know that," huffed Nova. "What were you doing here? You know we're busy..."

"You guys are busy. Combat Group isn't, ma'am. At least I'm not on duty at the moment."

"Well, you are _now_," said Nova. "The Captain needs a complete report on the status of every one of our weapons systems from you and Dash. There's going to be a staff meeting at 0100. We think we're getting on track as to when that disturbance is going to hit, and the Captain wants everyone on their toes against _any _sort of eventuality. That's why he sent me to look for you."

"I thought we were supposed to contact the space frigate _Colin Powell _at 2330 to let them know when it was going to hit. It's 2345 now," he said, looking at his chronometer.

"The Captain's hope that we would find the epicenter of the disturbance by then has proved to be more that a little overoptimistic," said Nova. "We told the _Powell _that we're still looking, and asked them to just keep as close a watch on the space liner _Westhampton Beach_ as possible under the circumstances. We've all been working hard on the first and second bridges to try to get a handle on this, but Derek wants every officer busy appraising their Groups right now. I'm both having to scan for this thing and calibrate my radar at the same time. Not an easy job, to say the least."

"Okay," said Paul. "Sorry I made myself scarce, Nova. Just..."

"You've got to think?" said Nova.

"Yes...How do you...?"

"I come here myself to think sometimes." said Nova. "I wish I … had some time to think just now," she mused. "But...the Captain wants us ready for that meeting ASAP."

"Where's the Captain?"

"In his cabin for a moment…writing up a personal log entry. He's trying to make some sense out of all of this."

"Yeah…like the rest of us."

At that, Nova smiled. "Yes. Let's go, Paul."

"Okay," said Rosstowski as he walked up towards the hatch and let it whir open. "Ladies first, ma'am," said Paul as he motioned towards Nova.

"Thank you, Paul," said Nova with a smile. "You're such a gentleman."

"Yeah...thanks," said Rosstowski.

* * *

III. MEMORIES IN THE NIGHT

Captain's Cabin

Space Battleship _Argo_

Earth Date: January 10, 2202

0008 Hours: Eastern Standard Time

* * *

Captain Derek Wildstar sat drinking a cola with his Captain's Log open on his computer. He had just completed writing a personal entry in the Log about the events of the past few weeks, trying to place everything in perspective. 

After looking out at the stars for a while, and considering the depths of space, he turned back to his work, typing in the following entry:

Now that I have again summarized the events of the past few weeks in regard to the Comet Empire's attempt to return, I would like to add the following to this Personal entry, as commentary.

One threat appears, at least for the foreseeable future, to have been abated. That is, the threat of Baron Gernitz and his House has apparently faded away for the moment. Whether or not Gernitz will ever return to carry out his threats of vengeance, or whether or not another Cometine House will seek to avenge Zordar's death by attacking Earth is at the current time unknown. I have reported this to the Commander, and General Singleton recently reported back that the Defense Council has agreed, at least, that the current Defense Fleet is in severe need of additional construction. What form this upgrade will take is unknown. However, the Commander noted, and I also agreed that the current Fleet is sorely lacking in close escort ships and in anti-submarine craft. Granted, we are now close to a point wherein all private shipping is supposed to be on its way back to Earth or other safe harbor, but I can't help feeling that even that shipping is somehow exposed and vulnerable. Which leads to my second point…

The strange appearance of this planet one thousand lightyears away from Earth, and the cosmic disturbances that seem to have begun as a secondary consequence of its arrival are bizarre and unsettling events. What do they portend? What caused this appearance, and what led to the apparent fact that the inhabitants of this planet seem to be crying for help? The Gamilons have left to begin a preliminary investigation of this matter, while we are here, on the Commander's orders, scanning for evidence of the wave of subspace disturbance that is supposed to hit the area shortly.

This impending disturbance is a major threat to shipping in the area, and may be a threat to Earth itself. Still, part of me wishes that this wave was not on its way here, and part of me also wishes that the _Argo_ was already on its way towards the Beta Valentis System, also known as the Varalndus System, to investigate the strange appearance of this planet. The appearance of this world is a portent that just cannot be ignored.

But, the more immediate threat is the approaching wave of subspace disturbance. What will it do to us? What will it do to the _Westhampton Beach? Will we be able to guide that liner to a safe landing on one of the moons of Neptune? _I pray that no lives will be lost due to this threat. Everyone in the Star Force is trying to find answers…and those not involved in the search directly are to be ready for anything…at my orders.

But, still…I can't shake the feeling that somehow, we aren't doing enough.

At that, Wildstar closed his personal log and shut down his word processor. He sat back, shut his eyes, and tried to think. Then, a moment later, his intercom went off.

He answered at the second ring. "Captain's quarters, Captain Wildstar speaking," he said.

"Wildstar, this is Sandor. Royster just calculated a guess as to when and where the disturbance is going to hit."

"What's your guess?"

"Per our guess, it's going to hit around 0412, plus or minus ten minutes…at EQ-234A, about three hundred megameters beyond the orbit of Neptune."

Wildstar let out a low whistle. "That's damn close to Neptune's gravity well and even closer to her moons…especially the small base on Nereid, which is just five megameters beyond Neptune. That could mean _trouble_ for us, for the _Westhampton Beach's_ chances at putting in safely at the main base on Triton, and for our personnel at the bases at Triton, Nereid, and Proteus. How accurate is your guess?"

"The confidence factor is about 96," said Sandor.

"Good. Sandor, I want you, Royster, Venture, Nova, and Parsons to get together on the second bridge and confirm these results…I'd like all of you to put your heads together and make the confidence factor as high as possible in the short time we have before the meeting. I know that's asking a lot of you, but I'm confident you can do it. We can't give the crew of that liner or her escorts the wrong information. I'll be there in forty minutes to meet with you right before the staff meeting."

"We'll get right on it, Wildstar," said Sandor.

Once again…we're close to discovering a piece of the puzzle, thought Wildstar. _But…not close enough._

thought Wildstar. 

Here ends Act One of And Then There Were Two...


	2. Chapter 2

**ALTERNATE TALES OF THE STAR FORCE**

**STAR BLAZERS--****AND THEN THERE WERE TWO...**

* * *

**ACT TWO-THE NEW "UNSINKABLE"**

* * *

**I. BY NEPTUNE'S KNICKERBOCKERS...**

**The Vicinity of Planet Neptune**

**Space Battleship _Argo_**

**Second**** Bridge**

**Earth Date: January 10, 2202**

**0038 Hours: Spacetime**

* * *

On the _Argo_, Captain Wildstar was, at the moment, standing near the huge hexagonal tracking display on the port side of the bridge next to the main Astro-Navigation consoles. Venture was seated directly behind the main console, with Holly Parsons seated at his right in a seat that was usually like Eager's private property when he was on the _Argo._

Nova Wildstar was about a meter and a half behind them, standing near a coffee trolley that an orderly had just hauled onto the bridge a while ago, and which she planned to take back to the galley before the main staff meeting. Indicative of the level of tension on the second bridge; the trolley had arrived full; but the cart was now empty.

Captain Wildstar was a little behind Nova, to the right, near Sandor. Royster was in front of them, manning a console behind the even larger tracking screen on the port bulkhead of the second bridge.

"So, what's the situation?" asked Wildstar.

"According to what Royster is pulling up now, our confidence factor as to the plot of the hyperspatial disturbance is now 99."

"In other words, you're damn sure this is the course it'll take."

"umm-huh," nodded Sandor. "Have a look now."

"This is a plot of the wave of disturbance, as it goes across the solar system," said Royster as a huge graphic came up. A moment later, Venture nodded to Parsons, and they both keyed in some commands at their consoles, and a light blue box filled with data came up below the main graphic.

"Right now, we're here," said Sandor, pointing up at a flashing dot near Neptune's orbit. "Wildstar, we've already received a preliminary report that chronometers went berserk on Brumus for a second...that's the edge of the wave as it begins to phase into normal space. See that line? That's the plot of the wave, based on what Venture could pick up on his instruments."

"If that's one of the hills and valleys of the substance of space that you usually track when you warp, then, that...," said Wildstar.

"That's Mount Killlimanjaro," said Venture as he turned his chair around to face everyone. "If a ship would hit _that _thing when it warped out, God only knows where it'd end up."

"You could probably kiss it good-bye, Mark," said Nova. "I don't think we were able to track how deep into subspace that thing cuts, were we?"

Venture shook his head. "In normal space, any ship that this wave passes over would either have to be in dock or sitting in perfect station-keeping attitude. Otherwise, it would either tumble straight into the rift or it would take structural damage that would take months to repair."

"And that's just what we predicted for the _Argo_, Venture," added Sandor. "You don't want to know what I came up with regarding how a frigate or passenger liner would take a hit like that."

"Where does this thing pass out of the solar system?" asked Captain Wildstar.

Royster ran an animation of the graphic as Nova said, "Right near Mars, Derek. However, there is a 5 chance the wave could just graze Earth, around the vicinity of Newfoundland."

"About when?"

"At its current speed, which is hard to predict, right in the middle of the night, local Newfoundland time," said Parsons, looking at a chronometer on her console. "That's sometime around 0610, Megalopolis Standard Spacetime, our usual standard for shipboard operations."

"We'd better notify Earth Defense of that ASAP after the staff meeting," said Wildstar. "And what's the time it'll hit here again, Sandor?"

"0405, Wildstar."

"We'd better hail the _Colin Powell_ and let them know about it. To be safe, they'd better be in dock with that liner by 0300," said Captain Wildstar. "While we're at it, we should notify Earth Defense right now."

"Good idea," said Venture as he got up. Holly, meet us in the Central Planning Room as soon as you record those latest plots."

"Aye, aye, sir," she said with a slight smile.

"Let's go, everybody," said Derek. A moment later, he, Nova, Mark, Sandor, and Royster were heading for the lift.

* * *

"Message successfully transmitted to the _Colin Powell_," said Homer six minutes later at his post on the first bridge while his replacement stood ready to take his place when he left for the staff meeting. 

"Did the message to Headquarters go through, too?" asked Wildstar.

"It sure did. Sounds like I distracted General Stone away from his coffee break or something. He's manning the watch tonight there."

"I feel sorry for the people at Headquarters tonight," said Venture. "That guy's got it in for everybody, including us."

"Be fair," said Wildstar. "He's mellowed out a little..."

"...but not much," added Nova. "Do you know that when I was dancing with him at our wedding, he checked his watch twice? When I felt his wrist for a second, his pulse rate was _way_ up there. I don't know why he's always so tense. It's not good for his health, or for the health of those around him."

"Maybe his wife was nearby, and she's really jealous," chimed in Dash from his post.

"The secret of General Stone's bad moods...wish we could decipher them," said Homer as he stood up...just as a red light on his console began to blink.

He sat down and said, "There's a message coming in."

"From where?" asked Venture.

"From Headquarters, Venture," snapped Homer as he listened to his headset for a minute.

"Put it up on the main panel," said Wildstar.

The panel lit up, and Wildstar and the bridge crew saluted as a glowering General Stone came onto the screen.

"Wildstar, I know of the danger to shipping," said Stone. "Where did you get this supposition that Newfoundland will be affected by this wave?"

"From a plot of every possible course it could take, sir. I know it's merely a possibility, but I feel we can't leave anything to chance in this situation. If even one person on Earth suffered harm as a result of this, and we didn't inform you, wouldn't we be derelict of our duty, sir?"

Stone grunted. "I guess you're right. I just wanted to be _certain_ that we had a good reason to call the Commander at his private residence at this ungodly hour and let him know about your strange theories." Stone took a deep breath and said, "By the way, how is the effort at herding in the _Westhampton Beach_ coming?"

"It's going well so far, sir."

"Good. I have some personal friends on that liner._ I_ want to be _certain_ they're kept safe. I'll notify the Commander of your report and stand ready to take whatever action he recommends, Captain. Is there anything else?"

"No, sir. Our report covered it."

"Very well, then. Dismissed."

Wildstar and the crew saluted. Stone returned the salute in a perfunctory manner before the screen went dark again.

"His friends are on that liner? He_ has_ friends?" quipped Dash.

A good laugh went around the bridge as Nova smiled at her husband for a split-second. "Yeah, that's a good one," murmured Derek.

"Sir," said Homer's replacement as he sat down. "The _Powell_ has acknowledged receipt of our orders."

"Great," said Captain Wildstar as Yamazaki from the Engine Group came onto the bridge.

"Your turn with the Officer of the Deck duty this watch," said old Lieutenant Commander Patrick Orion as he let his assistant sit down. "Take good care of this fine old lady while we're occupied," said Orion as he patted his console.

"I assure you I will, sir."

"Good," said Orion with a smile.

"Derek, let's go," said Nova as she looked around. "Coming, Paul?"

"Yeah, just give me a minute, " said Rosstowski as he flicked a few switches and turned the Artillery console over to his replacement. Sorry...I'm not quite myself tonight...just a few things on my mind."

"We'll need your full concentration below during the meeting," said Wildstar. "Even though your Group's not directly involved in this...who knows what could happen if any hostile vessels showed up?"

"Would they, Captain?" asked Homer. "Didn't we just check off all our enemies as either defeated, gone, or allies?"

"Homer, you've been with us a long time. You never know what could happen out here in space. Remember how the Cometines first showed up on that patrol mission we were on...with this very ship? We weren't expecting anyone like them then...so who _knows _what could happen in the next few hours? Let's go. We're running behind, everyone," said Wildstar.

* * *

**II. STORM WARNINGS**

**The Vicinity of Planet Neptune**

**Space Frigate _Colin Powell_**

**Bridge**

**Earth Date: January 10, 2202**

**0052 Hours: Spacetime**

"Captain, we've just received a message from the _Argo_," said Ensign Kir Flaarheim.

"Read it, please," said Lieutenant Commander Rey Fuentes, who was the frigate's calm, genial commander.

"Yessir. It reads:

**_To:_**_ Lt. Commander Rey Fuentes, Captain of the space frigate **Colin Powell**._

**_From:_**_ Captain Derek Wildstar, Captain of the space battleship **Argo** and Commander of the Star Force._

_Captain Fuentes:_

_Be advised that our tracking instruments have determined that there is a ninety-nine percent probability the predicted wave of hyperspatial disturbance will break over the Neptune area at 0400 Hours. As commander of the escort detail guarding the space liner **Westhampton**** Beach** you are urged to make certain that the liner is safely in dock on our base on Triton no later than 0300 Hours, as a safety precaution._

_You and your accompanying commander aboard the frigate **Thaddeus Kosciuzko **are also hereby advised to make certain both of your vessels are in dock by 0300 Hours. This is because the energies in the wave are so strong and of such an unknown nature as to be deemed a threat to your vessels as well as to the liner._

_We have determined that this wave may even be a direct threat to the **Argo** herself. Therefore, we anticipate being in dock by 0300 ourselves._

_I anticipate meeting with you, Captain Delgado of the **Thaddeus Kosciuzko**, and with Captain Wordsworth of the **Westhampton Beach **and some guests of his over breakfast on the **Westhampton Beach** at 0730 in order to thank all of you for a job well done._

_We will keep you posted as to any changes in situation._

_Signed,_

_Captain Derek Wildstar, Commanding Officer, Space Battleship **Argo. **(SBB-1)_

"Message ends, sir."

Fuentes stood furrowing his bronzed brow for a moment. "Thank you, Mister Flaarheim. Notify the _Argo_ that we'll be changing course momentarily and urging the liner to increase her speed."

Flaarheim nodded, and he began punching in data at his free-standing console.

"Mister Trent, increase our speed by one knot and change course starboard five degrees. After we notify Captain Wordsworth and Captain Delgado, we'll increase it two more knots."

"Yessir," said Quentin Trent, the ship's Navigation officer and Deputy Captain. "Making course and heading change now. Increasing engine output by two percent. Steady as she goes, sir."

"Sir, with all respect, aren't we using a multi-hit missile to fix a nick in the bulkhead?" asked Senior Lieutenant Ember Tyson, who was the ship's Combat officer and the third-in-command. She flicked back her chestnut hair and said, "Aren't we taking too many precautions?"

"Where there's human lives at stake, Tyson, we've got to go by the book," said Fuentes in a not unkindly voice. "I know you're a terror in maneuvers. I just hope we don't have any call for your services tonight. Still, I'd like you to stand by your weapons as they pass into Neptune's gravity well. We will be quite vulnerable there. Understood?"

Tyson nodded, while thinking, _Aye, sir. Damn, this is such a dullsville cruise_. _What could be worse than baby-sitting lots of rich people as they sip at their martinis in the wee hours of the morning? Nothing..._

* * *

"What time is it, honey?" asked a calm, assured voice whose owner was holding a very dry martini. 

"It's almost one o'clock, Glenn," replied a gentle, kind voice whose owner was beautifully dressed in a black and silver evening dress and silver open-toed evening pumps. "Don't you think we should get going in about a half hour?"

"Jonathan's in good hands with Michelle, Michiko," replied Glenn Hartnell-Iiyama in a soft voice as he adjusted his tie. "Michelle's thirteen, she's very bright, and she's proven her baby-sitting skills with our neighbors' children many times over, dear."

"But they're going to be going to bed so late tonight," said Michiko.

"Honey, this is a cruise. It's a vacation for us, and for them. I think we can bend the rules a little during a vacation. Besides, Jonathan wanted to see some real warships up close tonight. You know how he idolizes the Earth Defense Forces. It'll drive Michelle crazy, but let him look for a battleship or carrier tonight. We're getting close to a base...they might just see a big one coming in..."

"Is it right for such a young buy to idolize warriors so much? I mean, don't we pay the military to kill people?"

"Yes, but we need to be defended, and not every race out there among the stars is friendly. You know that, Michiko. For every Iscandar, you have a Gamilon as its evil twin. You know how it seems to go. Every good has its evil."

"I wish it wasn't like that," said Michiko as a dance band played _Scarlet Scarf_ softly in the background with a sort of Latin arrangement. "I wish we could say that we could all put an end to aggression and war forever. I detest it. I want our boy to become a doctor and heal others, not learn to kill them."

"What we can do is one thing. What an enemy will do is something different, Michiko. Look out that huge dome. See all those stars? You see how huge the universe is. You see what could be out there in the Sea of Stars? Any damn thing your nightmares could think of. It's a mystery to us. We need _someone_ to defend it."

"Are you saying you want our little boy to become...a killer?"

"No. But I don't think you ought to throw cold water on all his dreams, either."

Michiko sighed sadly. "That boy's just too active. His mind goes places I'd never imagine a sane mind would."

"What were you like at eight-going-on-nine? Weren't you a bit insane, too?"

"I was a good girl, Glenn," laughed Michiko.

"Therein lies the difference," said Glenn. "I was a bit of a bad boy."

"You still are," whispered Michiko with a wink. "Now can you guess why I want the children asleep in their cabin in a while? I want to keep you awake for...just a while longer."

Glenn smiled at that.

* * *

"It's a seven!" 

"Is not!"

"Is _so!_" insisted Michelle Hartnell-Iiyama, dark-haired, pretty, and looking authoritative as her lace- trimmed nightgown sleeve touched the contemporary updated _Monopoly _game board that featured most of the major streets and courts of the Great Megalopolis. "It's what you rolled, Jonathan! Why must you be so difficult?"

"Because the die over there on the right hit the Chance deck. It's a cracked dice. I roll again!"

"Where'd you get that idea from?"

"From Jack and Erik. When I'm at their house, we always play that way."

"Jonathan, your friend Jack is a spaz, and your friend Erik is a retard. Putting a Mega-Super Loan Fund in a Monopoly game is the most stupid thing I ever heard of in my life. And why have you had your pajama top off for the past twenty minutes?"

"I'm hot! I like playing with my shirt off!" said Jonathan.

"You look like the world's biggest _dork_, Jonathan," said Michelle. "Okay. I'll humor you. Roll again."

Jonathan began to roll, but as he turned his head he was distracted by a flash of light out in space, visible though the viewport he was facing.

"Michelle, I saw a _light!_ Get me my binoculars!"

"Okay, time out so Jonathan can look at the ships again," grinned Michelle. "What does it matter? I'm beating you _anyhow_, little brother."

"I will soon make my great comeback," said Jonathan as he bobbed his head, making the cabin light gleam off his honey-blond mop of hair for a bit. He seemed to notice no discomfort from the slightly cold deck, even barefoot. Michelle made certain her socks were up under her long nightgown as she accompanied Jonathan over to the viewport.

In his red pajama bottoms, Jonathan was a bundle of energy as he grabbed up his binoculars, looked out, and began to focus. "I see a warship!"

"Every freighter you've been seeing is a warship, Jonathan," grinned Michelle. "If we had as many warships as you claimed you saw on this cruise, we would've beaten the Comet Empire in five minutes, silly."

"This one _is_ a warship, Michelle! It looks like a frigate! She's flashing signal lights!"

"Let me see this! Silly, silly...Hey! You're right! It is a frigate, and he_ is_ flashing a light at us!"

"Hi, guys!" yelled Jonathan as he began to wave like crazy. Michelle, rolling up her eyes, waved just a little too. A moment later, Jonathan yawned. "Sis, I'm starting to get sleepy."

"Okay," smiled Michelle. "Ready to go to bed now, you spaz?"

"Yeah. I saw a patrol cruiser! How cool!"

"Great," said Michelle as she pushed the Monopoly board aside while Jonathan yawned. "Up in the upper bunk, sport. I'll take the lower one."

"Okay,"

Jonathan went up into his bunk, yawning like crazy.

"You've been up too long, haven't you?"

"I wanted to see Mommy and Daddy before I went to sleep! I like it when Mommy kisses me good night."

"Will I do?" smiled Michelle as she clambered up the ladder. "Good night, silly boy," she said as she kissed him on the cheek. "Sometimes I can't stand you, but I love you."

"Love you too, Michelle," he yawned. Michelle smiled and tucked him in before going to sleep.

Unknown to Jonathan, this was the last time he would see his sister for a very, very long time...

* * *

Not long after the children had gone to sleep (Jonathan quickly, Michelle, somewhat more dreamily as she thought vaguely about a boy in school that she liked that she hoped would ask her to the Valentine's Day dance soon after they got back to Earth), in the club, Glenn and Michiko heard a soft chime going off over the ship's PA system. 

Glenn noted the time; it was one AM on the dot. Wondering what the crew might be announcing at 1 AM, he listened as a calm, reassuring British voice with an Oxford-type accent voice said,

_"Attention, all passengers. For your safety, as well as for your comfort, we request that all passengers should be secured in their staterooms by two AM. We are approaching Neptune and slowly increasing our speed in preparation for our scheduled landing at the Earth Defense Base at Triton at three AM as an a unannounced port of call on our way home to Earth. We are asking that all of you remain in your staterooms from two AM until first breakfast call at seven AM because of unexpected course changes we may have to make as we head towards the base, escorted, as a precaution, by two Earth space frigates. For your safety and peace of mind, all passengers are also requested to close their cabin viewports from two AM onwards. This is because a vessel or two may be warping in at close range, and, as you have been previously informed, viewing a warping vessel at a distance of less than one hundred kilometers can be rather dangerous to those who have not received the proper training. "_

_"In return for your patience, it has been arranged for our ship to dock close to a piece of living Earth history upon our arrival on Triton at seven AM. Also, a select two couples will receive an invitation to have breakfast with myself and a few Earth Defense officers aboard this liner here in my private cabin at 7:30 AM. That will be all"._

_"Sincerely,_

_Your__ Captain,_

_Captain Clive Wordsworth, White Star Line."_

The Star View Lounge was filled with mutterings and hubbub as soon as the announcement ended.

"They're hiding something, Michiko."

"Glenn, don't be paranoid."

"No. I know Wordsworth. There's something going on that he can't tell us about. Stay here...I'm going up to the Bridge to see him."

"Glenn...you _can't!_"

"They'll let me up there," said Glenn angrily. "If they don't, I'll pull every Governmental string I have to pull this ship's license, and Wordsworth damn well knows that. We were in college together; he knows what I'm like!"

"Then I'm coming with you!"

"Michiko, please don't insist on it. Go check on the kids. Make sure Jonathan has those blinds closed in his cabin. You know what our boy's like...he'll want to see everything."

"Okay, Glenn. I'll see you in our cabin. I love you," she said as they got up. They kissed quickly, and hugged. Then, Glenn went his way, and Michiko went hers.

Unknown to them, that was the last time they would ever see each other alive...

**Here ends Act Two of And Then There Were Two...**


	3. Chapter 3

ALTERNATE TALES OF THE STAR FORCE

STAR BLAZERS--AND THEN THERE WERE TWO...

* * *

ACT THREE-CRY _HAVOC_ AND LET SLIP THE DOGS OF WAR...

* * *

I. GORAIZU FORTRESS

The Vicinity of Neptune

Main Bridge of Technomugar

Goraizu Fortress _Sukalnach_

Earth Date: January 10, 2202

0102 Hours Spacetime

* * *

Far off beyond Neptune, a Technomugar Goraizu Fortress sat in a distant orbit of the planet.

The Fortress was a massive, 1.2 kilometer wide circular ship covered with black armor that had several towers atop its main deck. It looked a little like a cross between Ekogaru's Technomugar Fortress and the Comet Empire's late citadel _Gatlantis._

The Goraizu Fortress was known as the _Sukalnach_, and it was the flagship of the Technomugar Lord High Protector Shardovan Gralnacz.

At the moment, Gralnacz was kneeling in a holographic communications room on his ship, awaiting a communication from his Overlord, Ekogaru.

A moment later, the room went dark as a chime went off over the speakers. Gralnacz bowed his bald head as the Presence of his Lord began to appear as a holographic image.

****

Artwork: "Ekogaru" (c) 2003 by Frederick P. Kopetz

Ekogaru's visage was deceptively lively-looking; his face was strong, his eyes glowed like red coals, or blue, or green, depending upon his mood. The Dark Lord's hair was jet-black, tinged with grey, but the cyborg's eyes had deep blue circles under them, and his artificial skin was vaguely greenish with a slight tinge of corruption, as the still-living organic parts of Ekogaru's form, after all, should have by all rights died almost three thousand years ago. The Dark Lord's appearance as a living corpse lent him, as well as all of the other Eldest members of the Technomugar realm, an appearance of dread and terror.  
"What do you desire, my Lord?" asked Gralnacz in a servile manner as he stared at the visage of his Master, being one of the three hundred men and women in the Technomugar hierarchy granted the great privilege of beholding the Dark Lord face-to-face...and then surviving afterwards.

"I desire to give you Instruction, Shardovan," said Ekogaru with a slight smile as his deep voice resounded around the chamber. "I desire to give you a final Briefing as to why _you_ are _there_. You remember why I sent you, do you not, fool?"

"My Lord, you sent me on this mad million light-year quest to help strike terror into the hearts of the Rikashans, did you not?"

"I did," smiled Ekogaru. "After all, as my Ambassador, remade as an eternal cyborg, did I not give you some of the same dread and terror I inspire, but in power and in visage? You were ugly to begin with, due to your feeble dabblings in Necromancy even as you served Pellias. I think I just improved upon what you did to yourself."

Gralnacz smiled at that as he recalled how he looked. Before joining Ekogaru's legions, his once-handsome face had become horribly aged and skull-like; much of his hair had fallen out, save for a maniac's fringe around the back of his head, and his nose had become like a beak. He had been dying; Ekogaru had given him new life, and the option to have his face restored. Gralnacz had declined the offer, until the day when his daughter Aliscea would be brought before him naked and in chains as the Dark Lord's captive. Then, he would blame her for his withered appearance, for did not attempts on his part to control his daughter's wild psionic talent lead him to dabble in the Darkness?

"You brought me here, Lordship, to terrify the Rikashans, aye?"

"Aye. Have you done that, Gralnacz?"

"Considering I have killed five of their psionic _R'jkharraz_, or "Gifted Ones", in psionic combat and crucified the sixth alive with nails driven by the power of my mind, they fear me terribly as your Ambassador. And I have joined with their _R'Khell_ priests, the red-clad fanatics who worship you as their God of War, in order to spread your will in wreaking havoc."

"And what have I told you to do?"

"Lordship, you told me to keep the forces of this... Earth... away from Pellias by attacking their shipping with the Rikashans' dimensional subs to draw the fire of some of their capital ships. Then, I will destroy said capital ship in a raid and speed off, leaving Earth, which just defeated...barely, a power known as the Cometines, to lick its wounds and prepare for an imminent attack by the Rikashans. Then they won't be interested in sniffing about Pellias!"

"What of this vagabond race known as the Gamilons, also nosing around Pellias, Gralnacz?"

"Lordship, we have a reception planned for this Leader Desslok that'll cut down _his_ arrogance a tad! Do you want him brought before you alive or dead should we capture him?"

"I do not want any martyrs left for the remnants of the Gamilons to rally around as we wipe their race from the Cosmos, Gralnacz. Bring me the blue bastard's bones, my friend. Maybe I can carve them into a belt buckle."

"I shall try, Lordship," smiled Gralnacz as he thought of the Dark Lord's grisly collection of trophies. His Lordship had a thing for turning the skulls of his enemies into drinking cups.

"What sort of capital ships are around the area, Gralnacz?" asked Ekogaru. "Not that I am concerned, mind you, just...curious about the dung-leaving organics we are fighting."

"Lordship, this is the major battleship around the area," said Gralnacz as he reached over to a control panel and brought up a hologram of the_ Argo_.

"_That_ is Earth's prime defender of this space? That_ thing?_" laughed Ekogaru in disbelief. "It looks like the sort of toy boat I used to play with in my bathtub three millennia ago as a little organic child! Pray tell, is it powered by a little elastic band one winds up?" smiled Ekogaru.

"Perhaps it is. One never knows with slime like this."

"It amuses me, Gralnacz. Bring me a piece of the ship's wreckage after you destroy it so I can use a little piece of molten metal on my desk as a paperweight for my magical tomes. And, pray tell, bring me the Captain's burned leg-bone if you can find it after you kill the lot?"

"Why, Lordship?"

"I need a new _D'rashkanna._ Pardon me if you do not know the ancient _R'Khand_ tongue I once spoke as a mere organic Rikashan once. A _D'rashkanna_, Gralnacz, is an implement we used on Rikasha long ago in order to dig snot out of one's nose."

At that, both cyborgs began to laugh like madmen. Then, when they calmed down, Ekogaru said. "That should be sufficient, Gralnacz. Go scare the R'Khell priest king warrior or whatever the heck he is and tell him I want the havoc to begin now. I want lots of people killed. Gralnacz. I enjoy murdering inferiors whom I cannot remold into our Image and grant eternal life to. Soon, all men shall worship _ME,_ Gralnacz. The new Lord and God of a new cyborg creation improved in my image! Then, when all men are under my feet, then I shall look young again...being remolded, as the Lord of the Universe!"

"Yes, my Lord," said Gralnacz with a bow of his head as his Lordship's image faded away. He was grateful for that.

He is my God and my liege-lord and my Master, thought Gralnacz. _He has given me much power and much wealth, and I love him. But still...he makes my skin crawl! He gives me the **creeps**!_

thought Gralnacz.

* * *

II. A BRIEFING

The Vicinity of Planet Neptune

Space Battleship _Argo_

Central Planning Room

Earth Date: January 10, 2202

0120 Hours: Spacetime

* * *

Captain Derek Wildstar stood to Lieutenant Commander Stephen Sandor's far right in the Central Planning Room as the _Argo's_ Mechanical Group Leader took over from Commander Mark Venture, who had begun the briefing with a long recap of their situation and the expected arrival of the wave of time-space disturbance.

Venture's lecture had set forth the basics. Now, Sandor was filling them in on additional information.

"An unsettling phenomenon that we have just noticed," said Sandor as he pointed to the large screen in the deck, "just happens to be this cloud of dense gaseous matter that we detected around oh-one-hundred hours as this meeting was just about to get underway. Royster detected it for us."

"Where is it coming from?" asked Captain Wildstar.

"It's coming from the extreme edge of the Pluto area, at an incredibly rapid rate of speed. Royster performed an analysis," said Sandor as a picture of the greenish-yellow mass of gasses appeared on the screen, "...and, luckily, it just seems to be a mass of nearly inert gasses, i.e.; a brew of argon, neon, and other such noble gasses."

"Pardon me, sir," said a bearded figure in a Living Group uniform not far from Nova Wildstar. He was Lieutenant Daniel Greenberg, the _Argo's _current chaplain on this mission. "I'm a Rabbi, not a scientist. May I ask what a noble gas is?"

"It's an unusually stable gas that's usually inert, meaning it doesn't react with much of anything," said Sandor. "I'm actually glad you asked that, because Royster and I noticed something very odd about a small proportion of this gas in this mix."

"Which is?" asked Captain Wildstar.

"Some of these gasses are actually strange isotopes of their normal analogues; isotopes I've not quite discovered before," continued Sandor. "The isotope of argon, in particular, seems to be mildly reactive...which is very odd."

"How do you think these gasses _got_ like that?" asked Nova Wildstar.

"They seem to be coming out of the time-space rift like that. I think that something within that rift is causing such a grave disturbance that it's changing the very form and nature of these gasses. Whatever it is, I don't think we want to be in the center of such a disturbance...or have a passenger liner in the center of such a disturbance, either. Captain, I suggest that we increase speed and get that liner to safety on Triton by 0200."

"It sounds like a good idea...but are there any other reasons why we should do so?" asked Captain Wildstar.

"Captain," said Venture "...when we replotted the course of the wave, we has to rework the mathematics of the plot. You'll note that IQ-9's been busy over there at the console. We're going to have a revised estimate of the time the wave will hit in a moment."

"Why did we have to do that?" asked Homer.

"Because we noticed it was speeding up," said Holly Parsons with a slight measure of annoyance as she glanced at a printout a yeoman handed her. She glanced at it, and her eyes went wide. "..._HOLY crap!..._ma'am...look at this," she said as she walked over to Lieutenant Wildstar.

"What?" asked Nova as Parsons handed her the sheet of paper while IQ-9 came up.

"Nova, there's no need to let your beautiful face turn red," said IQ-9. "I'm not doing anything."

"It's not that...it's this _estimate_!" said Mrs. Wildstar. "An eighty-two percent chance it'll hit at _0210?"_

"No, you're wrong," said IQ. "According to my calculations, the probability that the wave will hit at 0210 Hours is actually **ninety-five point four two zero one percent**."

"And it's 0128 now," said Lieutenant Wildstar. "_Derek..._"

Captain Wildstar just nodded. "Sandor, Parsons, IQ-9, Nova...thank you. This meeting is dismissed **right now.** If we want to save lives, we're going to have to give the passengers of the_ Westhampton Beach_ something of a wild ride. Homer, notify the_ Powell_ ASAP. Venture, Orion, when we get on that bridge, we'll need as much power as you can give us to get to Triton as soon as we can manage...and if we have to take that damned liner in tow, we'll do it! Let's get to it."

The Central Planning Room cleared a moment later, save for Rabbi Greenberg.  
Under his breath, he was reciting prayers.

* * *

III. RAIDERS OF DEATH

Subspace

The Vicinity of Neptune

Main Bridge of Rikashan (R'Khell)

Dimensional Submarine _K'Hantanga_

Earth Date: January 10, 2202

0132 Hours Spacetime

* * *

Commodore-Prefect Degal Hallacher, a member of the R'Khell Priesthood (and sub-race) of the Rikashan Star Empire sat drumming his fingers as a ghastly greenish light from his periscope shined on the gold insignia on the high collar of his bright red uniform tunic.  
Hallacher was in his thirties, and he was thirty-seven in the years of both his home world of R'Khell and the Capital World of Rikasha itself, both of which had a solar year just a few days longer than that of Earth. He looked much like a Caucasian Terran with dark brown hair, save that at seven feet tall, he was just a little taller than the average Terran.

"Where's the announcement?" he demanded.

"Sir, the Prophet said that he would be sending the Lord Ekogaru's orders any moment," said the submarine's comm officer.

"His Lordship, not meaning to blaspheme, had better hurry," said Hallacher nervously. "That thing out there is getting too close to that planet for comfort! I want to have that liner taken, burning, and take some slaves, kill a few others, and leave a tale of terror and horror _and _leave that damn ugly red and blue Earth battleship we've been shadowing to the Cosmos before that creation of His Lordship eats _us _up, too! Maybe this is a test of faith?" he mused.

"Perhaps," mused his comm officer as he began to murmur a prayer in the old form of his native tongue. "_Ach'Ekogaru...drasta ego velda r'kaneliech. Drasta vego eich R'Khelleva. Drasta vego ech Ri'kasha ank elda varakuns."_ Then, murmuring the prayer in the modern _R'Khand _language, he muttered, "O, Lord Ekogaru, god of war, god of vengeance, maker of Wrath under the Hand of the Unknown, Thy Ruler, hear us. Guard Our Sacred Priesthood. Guard our Sacred Homeland and bring us victory. Let us drink the blood of our enemies!"

Everyone on the bridge put up one fist and screamed, "**_CHA'TA_!**" in loud and savage unison.

Someone else began to chant **"CHA'TA KUNZ ERKANELIECH VAR!"** over and over again in the Ancient R'Khand. Some repeated the chant, others roared the modern equivalent, "TERROR! BREAK THE HANDS OF OUR ENEMIES!"

Cries of "_CHA'TA_!", the "_Cha'ta Kunz..._", and chants praying for honor for the Rikashan ruler, Lord Zaden, filled the sub for about three minutes as Hallacher stood sweating. He gritted his teeth a little as someone began to bang on a gong in the confines of the bridge, but as both an experienced priest and a Templar-like warrior-monk of his people, he smiled a little at the enthusiasm of the younger priests who made up the clerical officer corps of this sub, along with the monks and sworn religious acolytes who served as the ship's enlisted men.

In Rikashan society, it was common for special military missions to be undertaken on behalf of the Homeworld by the servants of Ekogaru, either with our without the express blessing of the Fleet, whom they served under (technically) as part of the Empire's command structure, along with the regular Fleet and the Fleets and Task Forces of the Seven Great Ducal Houses that aided Zaden and the head priests in ruling the Empire. Just as the Star Force was an elite unit of Earth's military, these warriors were an elite unit of the Rikashan military. However, unlike the Star Force, whose mission was to defend Earth and investigate natural and alien threats as well as to fight, the R'Khell warriors' only mission was to kill in the name of Ekogaru.

The cacophony continued unit the comm officer handed Hallacher a piece of paper. At that, the senior priest raised one hand and drew his ceremonial scimitar with the other. A silence fell.

"Vargenz, connect me to the task force."

"Aye, sir," said the comm officer as he flicked a switch. Soon, Hallacher's visage appeared on the small, round, cramped bridges on the seven other subs that made up the wolf pack.

"The word is GO! Follow Plan _Zerga_: and take them! Two to a ship! We are attacking the battleship! Run silent, run deep in hyperspace! May Ekogaru bless us!"

A fierce cheer filled the bridge of the ship as harsh klaxons went on. Submerged in hyperspace, the dark-red subs split up and roared off to begin their attack runs.

"Main firing room, I need a spread of six torpedoes and six lesser missiles. Target: The battleship!" roared Hallacher as he signaled for his periscope.

* * *

IV. FAREWELL, DOVE OF PEACE

The Vicinity of Neptune

Space Liner _Westhampton Beach_

Main Bridge

Earth Date: January 10, 2202

0140 Hours Spacetime

* * *

"I tell you, I've GOT to see Captain Wordsworth!" demanded Glenn Hartnell-Iiyama as he gesticulated fiercely at the two burly security men that the bridge crew had called to escort the raving man to the brig as he had argued with them for half an hour, demanding to see the Captain.

"Listen, bro," said the commander of Security, a burly African-American man who looked somewhat like the Star Force's Ensign Paul Hemsford of the Space Marine Group on the space battleship. "I told you once, I told you a thousand friggin' times! No passengers on that bridge without the skipper's permission! You gonna see reality, or do McKenzie and I here have to drag you away from that damn locked hatch like a sack of garbage?"

"I'm an important man! No one drags me around! Try it, and I'll have your job."

"Yeah, and you'll get two to five on a work farm! You gonna shut up or..."

Abruptly the hatch opened from the inside. At that, the Security Lieutenant, named Brooks, and his mate McKenzie stopped their diatribe and saluted as Captain Wordsworth, resplendent in his whites, came out. "What in God's name is this racket?" he said.  
"Sir, this passenger here wants to get on the bridge. He's been giving us and Purser Shanfield a hard time. Shanfield called us from his post, sir. Said he heard this crazy man here banging on the hatch."

"Let me get a look at the man before you arrest him," sighed Wordsworth. "Not that he deserves leniency, and..." Then, when Wordsworth noticed Hartnell-Iiyama's face, he stopped. "Glenn?" he asked. "Have you gone stark raving _mad?_"

"You know him, sir?" asked Brooks.

"Unfortunately, yes. Old college friend who went a little potty in the Gamilon war, but he'll listen to me.," said Wordsworth reassuringly. "You boys can go. I'll take him on the bridge, see what he wants, and then walk the poor devil back to his cabin myself. I can handle it, gentlemen."

"Aye, sir," said Brooks without another glance at Hartnell-Iiyama. "McKenzie, let's go. According to my pager, someone's hyperventilating on Deck Five. We'd better go play paramedics for a while."

"Right," said McKenzie. "Leave the damn Jonah here to the skipper." With a nasty look at Glenn, McKenzie followed his superior away.

"Now, Glenn, why are you raising such a blasted ruckus?" asked Wordsworth as he grasped his friend's arm and walked him onto the bridge.

"That announcement you made...something's up, isn't it?"

Wordsworth nodded. "See out there, past Neptune? That glowing string of matter in the distance? The greenish gas that's beginning to fill the area? What you are looking at my friend, is the doorway to Hell itself, I think. Some sort of time-space rift, that is. Why it appeared, and how, we don't know. All we know is that the frigates just told us to boost our speed up to twenty-seven space knots, hold on, and follow them and a battleship in the area to Neptune as fast as possible. That thing's speeding up, and we have to get battened down as rapidly as we can manage."

"What's our maximum speed?"

"Twenty-five. We can do twenty-seven in an emergency for ten minutes, and twenty-eight for five minutes. Any longer than that, and she'll shake apart like a house of cards, Glenn. The damned engine will fall off!"

"No wonder you decided not to tell anyone," mused Glenn. "But how can you keep people from looking forward when that thing is out there, plain as..."

"All the forward viewports are closed and locked," said Wordsworth testily. "If you have a whit of honor, don't tell a soul until we reach Triton Base."

"We're somewhat like the ancient _Titanic_, then?" said Hartnell-Iiyama fiercely.

"Yes, and yonder in space is _our _iceberg. But, with God's help, and the navigational skills of the battleship near us, we can win through."

"_Battleship_," snorted Hartnell-Iiyama. "Our steel saviors failed us at Saturn-Titan against Zordar! How competent is the Fleet, anyway? Just a few ragtag scraps of a defeated..."

"I'll have you know that we're being shepherded by the best Earth has to offer. _Literally_."

"You know, you're crazy," mused Hartnell-Iiyama. "What makes you think we're going to...?"

"Sir, if I can ask," said the First Mate, an Indian named Pasheev. "What battleship is out there beyond those frigates, anyway? She's out of visual scan range, and the only communication you got about her was _Captain's Eyes Only. _What's going on?

"This is a matter of some import we've stumbled into. That's all I can tell you...the government has the specifics under wraps, save for what you just saw...and..."

"Sir, the Captain of the battleship is signaling you," said the_ Westhampton Beach's_ communications officer. "He needs to break relay silence and security and needs to communicate with you directly and visually. _Right now._ For...emergency reasons, sir. Do you wish the bridge cleared?"

"No. Not at all. Stay, please. You too, Glenn. Just don't breath a ... _word_," said Wordsworth. "All right. Mister Holland! Put him through."

"Yessir," said Holland nervously as he flicked a switch.

On the small screen above the windows, an image began to come in, and every face on the bridge looked up in awe, surprise and some apprehension as they saw the face of Captain Derek Wildstar appearing on visual.

Glenn, you are a Jonah! thought Wordsworth testily. _I never guessed it could be that bad...the Star Force...my God!_

thought Wordsworth testily. 

"Which one of you gentlemen is Captain Clive Wordsworth?" asked Wildstar.

"I am, sir," said the much older skipper of the passenger liner, in deference to Wildstar's military rank, his position, and his honored reputation, even though Derek was far younger than he was. "We heard from Captain Fuentes and Captain Delgado. They want us to increase our speed to twenty-seven space knots, Captain. Can't you tell them it's not safe? Aren't they your inferiors in military rank, sir? I'm conveying passengers, sir. Not iron ore from Brumus."

"Captain Wordsworth, my Mechanical Officer, Lieutenant Commander Stephen Sandor, just called up the specs on your liner from your line on Earth. According to the plans we have, your ship is capable of twenty-eight space knots, emergency speed...and that for ten minutes."

"Yes, but there's a ninety-percent chance our engines will burn out at that speed."

"You'll have to risk it for the sake of the lives of your crew and passengers. It is now 0148 Hours. Our calculations indicate that the wave will hit in twenty-two minutes. At twenty-eight knots, we can get to Triton in ten minutes, with twelve minutes to spare to lock into the docks and tie in to base power. If you require it, we can take you under tow. To make it, you'll have to begin accelerating in two minutes. Do you require a tow?"

"No, Captain. We can do it, but it'll be a risk...a risk we'll have to take."

"I can sympathize, Captain Wordsworth. Our engine is newly fitted, too, and untested at her maximum speed. Looks like both our ships are going to have their speed trials now, sir."

Wordsworth grinned a little at that. "We'll have her up to speed as soon as we can manage, Captain Wildstar. Thank you.."

Wildstar cut off, and Wordsworth said to Hartnell-Iiyama. "Glenn, sit over there, in that vacant station and buckle in. Mister Harley," said Wordsworth over the intercom to his engineer. "Pull all the overrides. We need twenty-eight space knots, on my authority, NOW! We have a Class Two Emergency, according to the EDF. Class One is when we're being shot at, Class Two is risk to life and limb. Therefore, power us up to 28 knots NOW!"

"I canna guarantee my bairns will hold up..."

"Damn your bairns...we need our asses saved," barked Wordsworth. "I want twenty-eight or I'll get below and do it myself."

"Breaking all override seals...we're doing it now," sighed Harley.

* * *

All over the ship, passengers began to scream as the ship lurched and began to accelerate like a mad dog.

Soon, more screams came as, suddenly, orange trails of flame appeared from nowhere and streaked towards the ship. The light R'Khell missiles came so fast that they couldn't be seen with the naked eye, but when they hit the liner, everyone knew of their presence.

As the engines roared up to full speed, the metal hull of the engine room was torn open by a hit, and the room was vented into space. With rapidly fading screams, Harley and his men were sucked out into space, followed a moment later by some screaming children and their negligee-clad mother as another light missile banged into the ship.

The first victim of the war was one of the mother's children, a 6-month old infant named Patrick Halligan who had just been christened a few days before back on Earth. He was in bed, clad in only a diaper, and he froze solid as soon as his exposed little body hit the cold vacuum of space. Harley and his men joined him and his mother in death about ten seconds later.

On the_ Westhampton Beach's_ port side, something like another missile hit the ship. But it remained there, and did not explode.  
It wasn't a missile. It was a boarding pod from one of the subs. A boarding pod that opened and filled the earth ship with a squad of eight bellowing R'Khell monks clad in dark blue armor that hid all of their features who came out firing at anything that moved, be it man, woman, or child.

They looked inhuman. And, they acted like it, as well...

* * *

"Wildstar!" cried Homer. "We're getting a message from the _Thaddeus Kosciuzko_! It's an SOS!"

"Let's hear it," said Wildstar.

Homer flicked a switch, and the voice of Captain Delgado came over the speakers.

"**SOS!** **Frigate **_Thaddeus Kosciuzko _**hit by unknown object, possibly torpedo fired from unknown and unidentified space submarine. Enemy vessel does NOT seem to be Cometine. ..based on capabilities. Seems to be in subspace. Saw only torpedo trails! Hold #1 penetrated, losing air. Slowing to 18 space knots and beginning countermeasures. Please assume close escort formation! **_Westhampton Beach_** also reporting hits...major damage...AAAAAAAAAAAAAA!"**

An explosion came over the speakers, and, off to starboard, a bright flash of light marked the first frigate's passing and the resting place of her entire crew.

Wildstar didn't have much time to mourn...since, a moment later, the _Argo_ herself took a hit to starboard, near her stern, as a heavy torpedo smashed into her superstructure near main turret #3, followed by another missile on its heels.

Captain Wildstar knew that if they couldn't spot the vessel, or vessels, launching the missiles, they'd be finished.

At her post, Nova worked furiously, possessed by a sudden inspiration to try something.

"What are you doing?" asked Captain Wildstar.

"Trying to see how far forward I can bring the Time Radar! Maybe I can spot when the enemy submarines camouflaged themselves, Derek!"

"Good idea! Give it a try...and _quick!"_

* * *

Here ends Act Three of  
**_And Then There Were Two..._**


	4. Chapter 4

**ALTERNATE TALES OF THE STAR FORCESTAR BLAZERS--AND THEN THERE WERE TWO...**

_Quick note: This story has been slightly updated because I have made Jonathan a little younger, decreasing his age from ten to eight (I did this for all of RI and the preceding tales, since I need him to be a little younger in some upcoming work.) It had to be reposted because somehow it was deleted here at I made sure it was restored when I found out, which was just this morning...FREDDO_

* * *

ACT FOUR-AN ENDGAME

* * *

**I. THE ENEMY'S STROKE RETURNED**

The Vicinity of Neptune

First Bridge

Space Battleship _Argo_

January 10, 2202

0152 Hours

On the _Argo,_ Lieutenant Nova Wildstar had a hunch as to how she might discover the whereabouts of the enemy space submarines (or so she guessed) that were tormenting the Star Force, the _Colin Powell_, and the _Westhampton Beach_. The enemy had also just destroyed the Earth space frigate _Thaddeus Kosciuzko_, and as another missile hit the_ Argo_ in grim counterpoint to her racing thoughts, Nova knew that if they couldn't soon discover the source of the enemy fire, the _Westhampton Beach,_ already hit, would surely be doomed, and the _Argo_ might soon join her in death.

Finally, there was convergence. Nova punched a few buttons and called out, "Captain, this was what was in this sector of space just twelve minutes ago!"

"Space submarines," said Sandor.

"But they're dark red," said Holly Parsons from her post at the battle radar. "And…they don't match anything we've seen before, Cometine, Gamilon, or anything we know of."

Wildstar looked up at the round screen in the bridge overhead. "Nova, where were they at?"

"RPX-234; our current location. The missiles are coming at fifty space knots, from…"

"RPS-180; fifty degrees to starboard, distance, two thousand meters away," said Parsons.

"Venture, take us there!" ordered Wildstar. "Dash, Rosstowski, prepare our space mines! If we can hit them just right, we might be able to force them to emerge, like we did with the Cometine submarines we met a few months ago."

"Roger," said Venture, as the _Argo_ abruptly turned and began heading towards the subs' projected location.

"Prepare to drop mines, Rosstowski," ordered Dash.

Paul nodded. "Both racks, deploy and prepare to drop anti-submarine mines."

The _Argo_ sat over the spot a moment later. "Drop mines!" ordered Rosstowski.

Both racks released their deadly cargo. A moment later, several explosions came, and two red superstructures that reminded Wildstar a bit of pictures he had seen of ancient World War II ocean-going submarines emerged from subspace. On both superstructures, two gun turrets went off, raking the keel of the _Argo_ even as more mines fell towards the subs.

In the _Argo's_ keel, the port side auxiliary engine stuttered for a moment before blinking back to life, but not far away, the space battleship took a more crucial hit when the lower fighter bay hatch was hit.

"Wildstar!" said Conroy's voice over the intercom a moment later. "The lower hatch has just been hit. The linkages for the automatic_ and_ manual hatch latches are blown. We can't launch squadrons number one or two of the Black Tigers!"

"That's all right; Hartmann's strike fighters are in the port side upper bay. Order Hartmann to ready her planes for launch; have Lubyanska order her recon/fighters to stand by for launch if we need fighter cover."

"Roger," said Conroy, who sounded out of breath and disgusted at being sidelined for the moment just when the _Argo _was in the thick of things again.

"Captain!" called out Homer. "I've received word from a Lieutenant Ember Tyson on the _Colin Powell_. She says that they've taken a few hits and the Captain's dead but she's still in command. She's evaded the enemy subs and is going to attempt to attach to the _Westhampton Beach_ with cables. She's going to try to tow her out of danger towards the base."

"Good…maybe it's us they want," said Wildstar while Rosstowski ordered the launch of more mines.

"Good!" said Parsons a moment later. "One of the subs has surfaced!"

"Dash, prepare turrets one two and three," said Wildstar. "Venture, bring her about one hundred and eight degrees and drop down below the ecliptic. When we get on the right plane with those subs, Dash, turn the guns about and open fire!"

"Roger!" smiled Dash wickedly. "Rosstowski, ready all forward turrets."

"Readying all turrets," said Paul with a glint in his eye as Venture swung the smoking space battleship about and down. After the _Argo _maneuvered into position, the second sub surfaced, opening up with her guns.

"Locked on target!" said Rosstowski.

Wildstar nodded, and then Dash snapped, "_FIRE!"_

The_ Argo's_ guns turrets spoke once again, spitting out a nasty blue statement of death at their new, and as yet, unknown enemies. The first sub, commanded by Hallacher's friend, Talach, soon blew apart under a withering barrage from the_ Argo's_ guns.

"What do we do?" screamed Hallacher's exec as they looked at the screen on their sub's main bridge and saw the huge Earth space battleship turning her guns slightly, setting up for the kill.

"What else?" barked Hallacher. "Submerge her! NOW!"

"Submerging," said the helmsman in a cold sweat as he rapidly spun a large wheel. "What are we going to tell that Prophet, Gralnacz?"

"Tell him we served Ekogaru the best we could, damn you!" snapped Hallacher as the sub practically disappeared into subspace. "Best we can do when the gods interfere in our affairs…and then…"

"Incoming fire!", yelled an officer.

"What?" cried Hallacher.

But, the fire wasn't from the _Argo._ The energy bolts were livid green, and they were from the rapidly approaching black bulk of the _Sukalnach_, the flagship of Gralnacz himself.

They were roaring towards the sub's conning tower because two beams had just blasted over the _Argo._ One of them had just gone through main turret number two, killing the gun crew and reducing the top of the turret to smoking scrap. The other one had just dug a gash in the ship's main deck.

"Living quarters hit!" barked Sandor a moment later. "Wildstar, we need to get behind that…that space fortress!" said Sandor as he looked at the ugly black form that Nova had just acquired a visual of.

Wildstar clenched his fists. "Venture, ninety degrees to starboard…and then warp us ten megameters behind that fortress. Dash, when we emerge from warp, you and Rosstowski prepare to hit that thing with every gun turret we have left."

"Right!" said Dash as the _Argo_ began to swing around in the very teeth of a laughing Gralnacz's attack, with gun turret number three firing behind them to try to cover the ship's stern.

"What?" said Dash as Venture maneuvered the _Argo_ right over some of the enemy fortress' towers. "Wildstar! They must have some super-dense armor on that ship. Our shock cannon beams had no effect! They just bounced right off!"

?" said Dash as Venture maneuvered the right over some of the enemy fortress' towers. "Wildstar! They must have some super-dense armor on that ship. Our shock cannon beams had no effect! They just bounced right off!"

"Damn them," whispered Wildstar. "There's only one thing we can do, then."

"Venture, modify our course. Warp us twenty megameters behind that ship."

"But we'll be close to the gravity well of Neptune's farthest moon, Wildstar."

"We'll have to take the risk; just do it."

"All hands," said Venture. "Prepare for emergency warp! Ten…nine…eight...seven…"

"I'm gettin' ye power as fast as I can," said Orion from his post as he snapped on his harness.

"…five...four…three…two…"

"Derek!" cried Nova as her radar screen suddenly filled with snow. "The gas cloud is approaching…and …oh, no! So is the hyperspatial disturbance! _It's right behind it_!"

Wildstar looked up, sitting aghast as a rolling cloud of gas appeared in their windows, followed by a roiling mass of bluish-green energy that was rolling over Neptune, over the enemy fortress, over everything at once….

'…one…"

"_Venture!"_ snapped Wildstar, just as his helmsman's hand went down on the warp lever.

"_…WARP!"_

The _Argo's_ engines roared, and the ship began to go into warp, just as usual…but then the warp turned into a distorted parody of itself as a greenish, yellowish, and then pure white light blasted over the bridge. Venture and Dash cried out, and Nova screamed, just as Wildstar realized. _Oh, my God, we're warping…right as that thing is rolling over us! We're warping straight into a tear in the time-space continuum! What in God's name is going to happen to…_

The last thing Derek heard was Nova screaming as the white light overtook him, and he felt as if he had melted into nothing.

The wave roared over the battle zone, and, a moment later, the _Argo_, Gralnacz's fortress, and Hallacher's space submarine were all gone; all had disappeared into nothingness.

No sign of the three ships existed in our universe a moment later.

For all Ember Tyson knew, as she watched the ships fading out at long distance, all three vessels had vanished, forever...and just as she was about to attach to the liner to tow it.

Then, the wave hit her frigate and the _Westhampton Beach_. Neither of them were anywhere near warping, (the liner, as a matter of fact, couldn't warp at all…) but, still, the wave rolled over both of them like madness. There came chaos, and then, silence….

* * *

II. LOST SHEEP

First Bridge

Space Battleship _Argo_

Unknown Location

Unknown Time

* * *

Silence. 

That was the first thing Captain Derek Wildstar noticed when he came to on the _Argo's_ bridge a few moments later.

Wildstar opened his eyes, expecting to see either an angel, a Buddha, or perhaps the Lord Himself telling him that he had just arrived on the other side, but he knew he was still on the_ Argo_ when he felt the cold metal of his console beneath one hand, and felt the deck against his bleeding forehead.

He got up, mopping away the blood, not caring that his mane was soon matted all over the wound. He found it a little difficult to move one arm for some reason, so he took off his Captain's jacket and cast aside his ascot, tossing them on his chair. A blink of an eye later, his eyes met Nova's as she struggled to her feet beside her radar console.

"Nova!" he cried out as he ran over and helped her up.

"I'm okay…just feel like a tooth is kinda loose, that's all," said Nova as she held onto her chair. "Your _head! _I'd better bandage it!"

"No…after I see how the crew is…," said Wildstar. "Venture!" he cried as he ran up behind his friend's prone form.

"We're_ alive?_" said Venture.

"Yeah, but I've got no idea where we are," said Parsons. "Those stars look weird, and the astro-compass looks dead."

"Power's normal," said Orion, who stepped aside as Homer helped up Rosstowski.

Sandor was struggling up beside his console. "We made it through that…on the edge of subspace," he said. "That's why it looked so…"

"Sandor…what is it?" asked Wildstar.

"I don't believe what I'm seeing on these instruments," he said. "They must have been knocked out of calibration by the warp. They must have been. Or else…"

"Or else what?" said Venture.

"Before I can tell you anything, I'll need to have these checked," snapped Sandor. "_Royster!_" he called on the intercom. "Are you okay down below on the second bridge?"

"No," he whined, but Sandor smiled, knowing he was all right.

"Royster, go to the master chronograph, the elapsed time sensor, the absolute time sensor, the spatial dilation chronograph, and the date-time log and give me your readings."

"Okay," said Royster a moment later. "Shipboard time…0200 hours. Elapsed time sensor, negative two hundred plus years. Absolute time sensor is dead. Spatial dilation chronograph reads plus two hundred thirty five years, and the date-time log reads, "**(ESTIMATE) 06/25/1967**. Uh…anything else you need?"

"Royster," said Sandor with his head in his hands. "Check the computer trunk and see if that's what they really picked up."

"Okay," said Royster. "And, then, I'll try to give you an absolute calibration, okay?"

"Great!" said Sandor. "If I'm right, we just probably have a bug in the system."

"And if you're wrong?" asked Wildstar.

"Well, then, one of these two sets of figures would be correct, Wildstar."

"Which means?"

"Something we don't want to think about," said Sandor. "If one set is correct, we're in the twenty-fifth century now. If the other set is correct, we're in the twentieth century. If neither is correct, we just lost a few minutes…the normal sort of thing for when we warp. Although where we went is still an open question."

"Well, where could we be?" said Wildstar.

"That's probably not too bad. First, let's try to figure out _when _we are, so to speak."

"Okay," said Sandor.

The bleeping of the radar started again a second later. "It's working!" cried Nova. "Hmmm," she said, slurring her words a little due to her loose tooth. "I know where we are now. I've got this visual of our location. Transferring to the main video panel."

Nova flicked a switch, and everyone gasped. "Earth…and our moon! And the moon's undamaged!" they said.

"Yes…and there's no traffic on the usual EDF bands," said Homer. "This doesn't look good."

"I think that's the understatement of the year, Homer," said Wildstar. "Sandor, how long will it take you and Royster to figure out what we picked up?"

"A while," he said.

"I thought so," said Wildstar. "Nova…Homer, IQ-9…in the meantime, can you scan Earth, the moon, and all the comm bands we can pick up? We've got to get some idea of what happened."

"Roger," all three of them said in unison as they got to work.

"This is mighty strange," said Orion.

"You're telling me," said Wildstar. "You're telling me."

END.

Here ends _And Then There Were Two..._


End file.
